The Bracken Woods there is no other word for spirit

He only move was to creep nearer, stepping slightly astride of him so that her nose might be nearer to his shoulder, with her own available to him if he was so inclined.  She quietly sniffed at length, but his scent was primarily his and his alone, dusted with the earthy traces of the woods and the land he travelled. She had entertained the idea briefly that he had come from her home, but it was not so.

She drew back, having committed to memory general details about the wolf before her. She would know him now if she crossed him or his path again. He asked a question, and she lowered herself gracefully to her haunches, and shook her head in reply. "I flee from man. My home was three moons travel from here." Her narrow head canted slightly, here green eyes holding curiosity, but also trepidation. "Does man come through here?"